


But There's One I Always Miss

by cupcakentea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ASMR, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anxiety, Baker Harry, Fluff, Insomnia, Liam and Niall are mentioned a bit, M/M, Minor Character Death, Online Relationship, Panic Attacks, Texting, YouTuber Harry, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakentea/pseuds/cupcakentea
Summary: Louis is then met with the view that first lured him in, but bigger, more detailed. He stares at the pale skin, the strong jaw framed with long chocolate curls, and the wet sheen that shines on the plump mouth, as if whoever it belongs to licked it mere seconds before recording. Then, the lips part:"Hi everyone, this is Hazza ASMR"Harry is the cure to Louis's insomnia





	But There's One I Always Miss

**Author's Note:**

> Almost 5 years ago I discovered ASMR and it actually changed my life and helped me so much with my insomnia I barely have white nights anymore.  
> That and all those compilations of the boys' voices and the fact that I didn't find any ASMR artist AU had me thinking I had to write one. So here it is.  
> Also ASMR is not intended for sexual pleasure, in this fic the relationship turns romantic because of how they interact outside of the artist/viewer frame.
> 
> English is not my first language and this is unbeta'ed so all grammar/spelling mistakes are mine please do tell me if you find some or think that I missed a tag I'll be infinitely grateful
> 
> Finally, I'm wishing my dear [Nopaynenogayne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nopaynenogayne) a very happy birthday. I'm sorry I can't be with you to celebrate but I'm thinking of you across the oceans. So this fic is for you, a piece of me you can have with you at all times. Love you.

 

 

It’s 3:44 a.m and Louis can't sleep. This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last, and tiredness has settled far into his bones and the corner of his eyelids. 

Like so many nights before, he can't find rest, his fingers clutching the top blanket as he gently blinks at the ceiling. With a heavy sigh, he slowly sits and stands up from the bed, feet finding his slippers in the dark.   
  
Headed for the kitchen, Louis sets his mind on fixing himself a cup of herbal tea, chamomile if there is any left. Not that it has any effect on his inability to fall asleep, but after months of trying to resolve the issue with plants - to no avail - he has grown accustomed to the soothing taste.   
Rummaging through his cupboards, his hand stumbles upon a yellowish box: chamomile. However, when he opens it he finds it empty and remembers with a stark clarity not throwing it away after last night’s brew, when he used the only teabag left. 

Well then, he'll have to settle for liquorice and mint. 

With a small sigh, Louis turns the kettle on and grabs a mug from the drying rack. He sits on the countertop, legs softly dangling above the floor, and waits in the quiet that’s only disturbed by the ticking of the wall clock. Once the sound of boiling water fills the room, Louis mechanically reaches for the kettle and pours himself some tea. Then, one hand holding his mug, the other rubbing his eyes, Louis's thoughts resume running wild.   
  
He knows the whole ordeal is simply not healthy. He’ll catch a nap here and there, building some form of respite a few stolen minutes at a time. Sometimes it’s at work, a quick moment during lunchtime, head on his desk, his neck bent at an awkward angle that will ineluctably hurt when he wakes up. Sometimes it’s in front of the telly, when he’s cozy under a blanket and the sound of rain splattering on the window pane lulls him into closing his eyes. But exhaustion never truly leaves, and it has since long affected his mood. Laughter doesn’t come as easy as it did, and Louis doesn’t feel like the world is his to grasp anymore, a quiet resignation taking place where his hopes once stood. Nights are spent just like this, mind twisting and turning with questions that the dark cannot answer.

 

Now, however, his insomnia has begun to affect his relationships.   
  
He thinks back to lunch earlier: Liam had been ranting about an argument he was having with his new girlfriend when Louis, worn down by a migraine and sheer exhaustion, snapped, telling him he simply didn’t care. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Louis wanted to snatch them out of the air and swallow them back, but he couldn’t, and had to witness his best friend closing off, a sad tilt to his mouth. It had not been pleasant.   
Even Lottie and Fizzy have started to worry, sensing during their last visits that something is definitely off with their brother. If Louis has always been spontaneous and loud, he’s never been short with them until the past few months, and the thrum of energy he always carried with him has considerably dimmed down. He has tried to reassure them more than once that yes, he’s feeling fine and no, there’s no need to worry, but their eyes remain concerned still.   
  
Adults keep a lot of things to themselves, especially about stress. They don’t say that college is just the beginning, that what was once the pressure of passing exams and making deadlines turns into the crushing void of unemployment. They don’t say how it eats at you, eats at who you are because even with the support of everyone who loves you, you stand alone against the fear of disappointing not only you but also the people who believe you can achieve something. They don’t say that when you finally, finally find a job, it’s paying bills and pleasing your boss that makes your stomach knots. 

For Louis, stress was inescapable. And stress takes a heavy toll.   
Losing your mum takes a heavy toll too.    
Both crashing on him at the same time, that becomes too much.    
  
That's how Louis stopped sleeping. The first nights were filled with crying and shouting and questioning everything that was left standing, fury coursing through his veins and spilling on his pillow as saltwater. When that stopped, it was worrying about his sisters and brother, how to support them, be a good brother and a better role model. How to stand up and be proud when your very core has been taken away from you. Then, Louis worried about finding his place at work, in a position he had desperately wanted, worried about being disappointing, not up for the task. 

And when everything had worked itself out, sleep simply did not return to its rightful place.   
Pills did not help, and neither did tea, or sprays, or bath salts and colder sheets. 

  
And, almost a year later, Louis is awake at 3:58 am in his kitchen on a Tuesday night.   
  
Draining the rest of his drink in one go, he heads back to his bedroom, the pitter patter of his slippers echoing on the wood boards. Laying on his bed, he opens his laptop and goes on YouTube, looking around for ocean waves videos. Even if they won’t help him sleep, they calm him down enough that he can relax and try to unwind.   
Soon, the sounds filter through the tinny speakers of the computer, and Louis's eyes drift shut. His back against the headboard, he focuses on loosening his limbs up one by one, just like the meditation guides that litter his bookshelves instruct. Starting with his feet, he stretches slowly, one toe at a time, then moves his ankles around in slow circles, feeling the nerves and muscles uncoil.   
  
When he reaches his left calf, the sound of waves abruptly stops and, opening one eye, Louis realises the video is stuck buffering.   
With a huff, he goes to reload the page, but his gaze lands on the top right of the screen, and he stops abruptly in his tracks.   
  


At the very head of the recommendations, there is a mouth. Pinkish lips and a cupid's bow that resembles the dip on a peach's skin, so soft-looking Louis can almost feel its caress underneath his fingertips. The top of the frame stops right above the tip of a nose, and its bottom under the collar of a lilac jumper. Without really paying attention, Louis clicks on the thumbnail, loading the new page.   
  


There’s the sound of wind chimes, an intro to the video, and Louis is then met with the view that first lured him in, but bigger, more detailed. He stares at the pale skin, the strong jaw framed with long chocolate curls, and the wet sheen that shines on the plump mouth, as if whoever it belongs to licked it mere seconds before recording. Then, the lips part:

  
"Hi everyone, this is Hazza ASMR"   
  
The man’s voice is deep, almost gravelly in some expirations, and spells out this simple sentence so leisurely it has Louis sliding down the headboard, sinking into his mattress.   
  
"As usual I'd advise you to use headphones for the best experience possible, but really you do you"   
  
“Well,” Louis thinks “that’s new”. As he looks intently for his headphones on his nightstand, he can hear the man's voice changing from a soft speaking tone to an almost whisper and strains his ears to catch the words. Finally locating the buds, he plugs them in and lays on his side under the duvet, laptop opened right next to him.   
  
" I really hope you all had a really good day...  I don't know if I could call mine "good" ... But I think it might be at least a bit ... Erm... Entertaining for you I guess"   
  
As the man keeps on talking, the monotonous and unwavering lull of his voice unclenches something in Louis's chest. He feels his brain slowing down, trying to match the cadence of the words falling from the lips onscreen, ever so slow. His eyes fixated on the weirdly framed footage in front of him, he listens.   
  
"So at this point, I thought about thawing my friend’s fridge out... Cause you know it's summer soon and that's a nice thing to do and I have to say I honestly thought using a knife was a good idea"   
  
What the hell is this guy talking about ?   
  
"So I dug in there and it was all fine at first. Took out big chunks of ice, like really big... Honestly, I did tell him he should do this more often. But then the knife got stuck in something. And the fridge starts making a small whistling sound... Like... You know, the wind in the waves... " Louis sluggishly nods "It was almost nice but not really normal for a fridge you see. So all in all, a bit alarming."   
  
The voice feels so soothing, like a tide that slowly but surely washes over you, pulling you in deep. Before he can fully realise it, Louis's eyelids start to close of their own accord, and for the first time in months, he doesn't want them to.   
  
"That's when Niall came back. I have to say he wasn't pleased, but I baked him banana muffins with what was in the fridge so... I guess he was less mad"   
  
Louis falls asleep.

 

__________

  
  


Waking up with his earbuds cord tangled around his neck is not in Louis’s habit. In fact, just the act of waking up itself isn’t. So when his eyes blink the sleep away and his gaze lands on his laptop, some video still playing on the screen, confusion begins to grow in his still drowsy mind. 

He untangles himself from the cord, puts back the buds in his ears and listens to the video: it’s a woman, talking about checking his blood pressure. This time, it doesn’t do much, her joyful lilt reminding him of Daisy when she is excited about a shopping trip, so he simply pauses it. 

 

Louis sits up and glances at the time on his computer. Sure enough, it is 9 am, which means he has almost slept for 5 hours in one sitting.    
That just doesn’t happen anymore.   
Slowly, he stands and heads for the shower, set on preparing for the day.

 

__________

  
  


Louis had forgotten what it’s like, going about your day without feeling the urgent and constant need to sleep. He feels no need for a nap, his legs are less heavy, his thoughts clearer than the day before. He goes outside for lunch, to a little café a bit out of his way because for once he has enough time to do so and even that small act brings a smile to his face. 

When he finds himself ahead of his regular work schedule, already starting on a drawing what he had planned for the following day, Louis just freezes. It’s scary, he thinks, because last night was nothing more than a happy accident in his routine insomnia. And deep down, he’s certain that it won’t happen again.   
  
So that night, when he puts himself to bed, Louis doesn’t open his computer.   
  
Two sleepless hours later, he tells himself he’s just going to check to put his mind at ease.

 

And sure enough, the pink mouth is there in his Youtube history, as if smugly waiting for him.   
This time though, Louis clicks directly on the username, pushed by curiosity, going straight for the “Videos” section that hoards dozens of them. Like a repetition of the previous night, he plucks his headphones from the nightstand, plugs them in, and randomly clicks on a thumbnail. 

The voice cuts through the eerie silence.   
  


“Hello everyone, this is Hazza ASMR. I hope today was a good one for you. Tonight’s program is a scalp massage if that’s alright with you…”

 

Again, the drip of the words is just too inviting to resist. Louis closes his eyes almost immediately, too tired to fight against any reservations he had during the day. He listens raptly to how the man - Hazza, his sluggish mind provides - pronounces consonants; the way they glide on his tongue to end up rubbing on his teeth.

 

He doesn’t expect the sound that comes next: a strong brushing that seems to come from the top of his head, somewhere right above him. Eyes wide, he stares at the video, and once again the framing that only reveals the bottom half of Hazza’s face doesn’t let him understand what’s going on. 

Closing his eyes again, he lets himself listen.   
  


The noises are reverberating through his entire head. Somehow, it feels good, relaxing, like when his mum used to card her fingers through his hair when he was little. The strangest thing of all is that it almost feels real, and whatever Hazza is doing to make those sounds, Louis doesn’t want him to stop. He can almost feel the man’s fingers playing with his strands and it’s intimate, comforting in a way he hasn’t experienced in a while.   
Then, Hazza starts talking again.   
  
“I hope this feels good… I’ve always loved people touching my hair so scalp massages and hair brushing are some of my favourite triggers”

 

Louis doesn’t know what a trigger is, and honestly, at this point, he cannot be bothered to try and guess when the velvet of this voice joins the persistent brushing in his ears. The two sounds weave together, like a duet written to soothe his nerves and let his mind wander.

 

“And my sister sometimes plaits my hair when I see her. Sometimes she put flowers in there too… I think it’s quite pretty”

 

Louis sleepily thinks about the long cocoa brown curls that frame Hazza’s face. They seem more than plait worthy.

 

__________

  
  


Louis resigns himself almost immediately: whatever ASMR is, it works. Or at least, Hazza does. Soon, a new routine replaces the old one and instead of laying down on his bed to watch the light reflecting on the ceiling grow from a blue hue to gold, Louis now buries himself under the blankets, earbuds in and one of Hazza’s video playing on the screen. Sometimes he’ll try to stay awake and watch some of the footage to see for himself the slow and careful way those now familiar pinks lips form words. Sometimes he’ll just close his eyes and drift away almost immediately, cradled by the warmth of Hazza’s voice whispering in the shell of his ear, cocooned in his duvet.

 

Louis even begins to listen to Hazza at work, just to stop his shoulders from tensing up, his spine from coiling tight when he’s focusing hard on the details of a drawing. 

It’s like magic, like a spell that he never wants to see waver. Or an addiction.

Either way, sleep has returned to him and for once in months Louis is hopeful, changing back a little more each night into the buzzing sun he used to be.

Lottie and Fizzy’s eyes are no longer searching for cracks in his mask and their Skype calls are filled with bursts of laughter and crinkled eyes. And when Louis met Liam earlier this week for a night in, both slouched in front of the telly with pizzas, his best friend had looked at him intently and stated, simply “You’re better, aren’t you ?”. Louis nodded, the corner of his lips lifting up in answer and for the first time in a while he wasn’t lying. “I’m so glad. So, so glad you’re back Lou” Liam added, pulling him into a tight embrace that warmed them both.

  
  


In the past weeks, Louis has started to actually look into ASMR, into the specific vocabulary like “triggers” or “tingles” and the science of it all. But if the relaxing power of the videos and their benefits on his sleep cannot be disputed, he doesn’t think he really has experienced the feeling described in the articles or what people are gushing about in the comments section.

Nothing could have prepared him for when it does happen.

  
Watching Hazza’s newest video at home, Louis sits at his desk working on his latest assignment, absentmindedly listening to Hazza’s rambling. 

 

“And then he told me this really good joke… I think you’ll want to hear it maybe. It goes like this… Why did the baboon ask the giraffe ‘why the long face ?’”

 

Louis rolls his eyes, hopelessly endeared, and stops his hands to focus his gaze on the screen. Phoebe told him this one when she was six, and he wants to see Hazza going through with it.

 

“Because he thought her neck was her face” the voice blankly states.

 

And there, on the corners of Hazza’s lips, two dimples appear, as if Nature itself paused there long enough to leave its mark, twin indents that spell "you were born to smile". And smile he does, strong and bright and unwavering, just like his voice. It’s a sight to behold.

 

For the first time, Louis wonders what the rest of the man’s face looks like. He wonders if his eyes are smiling too.

 

With the dimples come a chuckle quickly stifled behind the back of Hazza's hand. It’s nothing of a sound, barely a breath and a soft rumble, but Louis feels it exploding on his skin. 

 

It’s not tingles, it’s sparkles, blooming randomly on his body, connecting together and heading straight for the base of his skull. Fireworks spreading on his epidermis, making it break out in goosebumps, his hair standing up. It’s waves of pleasure running through his nerve endings, coming and going to the sound of Hazza’s soft enunciation, an electric current sending his synapses into a frenzy. Louis is subdued by the static-like sensation, thinking that he might just purr from it if it goes on for too long. It feels precious and fragile and the lips are still smiling onscreen and Louis cannot detach his gaze from them, suspended in his own body.

 

When his cells have calmed down, the tide slowing to sparse ripples, Louis’s fingers move to the keyboard.   
Not once has he written a comment, not only because he did not know what to say but also because of the nervousness that always awakened in his belly at the thought of doing so.   
This time, all is quiet as he types, as he clicks on “add a comment”.   
  


Slouching back in his chair, Louis closes his laptop and reaches for his forehead with one hand, staying still for a few minutes. He’s on the verge of bursting out of his skin, body and mind both overwhelmed.

Slowly exhaling, he makes a move to go to bed when he feels it, the buzz of his phone in his pocket.

 

Pulling his phone out, he turns on the screen, eyes squinting at the sudden brightness, and here it is, clear as day.

“Hazza ASMR replied to your comment”

“Fuck” he whispers, barely above a breath, “Shit… This is happening”

Flicking one finger, he opens the app and reading onscreen what he has written, now adorned with another message, feels almost surreal, intangible.

 

**TBird Lou** : You’ve saved my life one video at a time.

**Hazza ASMR** : I am incredibly touched and I’m so glad to hear that. I don’t want to intrude and tell me if I overstep but can I ask what’s wrong ? All the love x

 

This is too much. It feels intimate, even more so than hearing Hazza’s breathing in his ears, rambling about his day with his fingers on his scalp. It feels intimate in an emotional way, and everyone can see.

Bringing his laptop to bed, Louis opens it once more and the video that started it all appears onscreen, still paused. He hits the spacebar, bringing it to life again, and listening to Hazza’s voice reassures him somehow in that moment that makes him feel stretched thin and vulnerable. He opens the “About” page of Hazza’s channel and there, his eyes land on the small innocent grey box entitled “Send Message”. He’s doing this.

 

**TBird Lou** : Hi sorry if this is weird or less convenient for you I just didn’t feel that comfy with spilling my life in the comments

**TBird Lou** : though I gotta say it’s barely less weird thinking about spilling it here

**Hazza ASMR** : Hi ! It’s perfectly ok I didn’t think about that when I asked you I’m so sorry if I was out of line

 

In his ears, Louis can hear Hazza repeating “It’s okay” and shushing him, like a mantra, and he feels safe, protected.

 

**TBird Lou** : You weren’t no worries

**TBird Lou** : I mean I watch your videos every day and I just said something like this I’m pretty sure you’re not the one that should feel like intruding or being out of line there

**TBird Lou** : I’m Louis

**TBird Lou** : Still curious ?

**Hazza ASMR** : I’m Harry. 

**Hazza ASMR** : And very much so

 

Louis takes a deep breath.

 

**TBird Lou** : Basically

**TBird Lou** : I don’t sleep

**TBird Lou** : Used to

**Hazza ASMR** : For how long ?

**TBird Lou** : A year or summat I don’t know

**Hazza ASMR** : That’s is a lot. Are you okay ?

**TBird Lou** : Much better now 

**TBird Lou** : Thanks to you

**Hazza ASMR:** I’m really glad

**Hazza ASMR** : Do you maybe wanna talk about it ?

**Hazza ASMR** : It’s perfectly fine if you don’t

**TBird Lou** : You don’t have to do this you know you don’t know me

**Hazza ASMR** : I know

**Hazza ASMR** : But I want to

**Hazza ASMR** : If you’re okay with it

**TBird Lou:** Ok

**TBird Lou** : Let’s do this

 

Louis finds himself typing it all down, as if he has been waiting for the opportunity, waiting to be heard by someone who doesn’t know him, someone who expects nothing from him. Someone willing to listen not because they have to but because they want to. It spills out of him, the steady flow of his thoughts blooming on the screen. The unrelenting stress, the unyielding pressure that built up over the years and broke him down slowly. Becoming the head of his family while mourning the person at the centre of his universe. Feeling afraid and alone, unable to sleep no matter how badly he wanted to. 

Louis paints with broad strokes the picture of what has kept him awake for a year. And with Hazza in the crook of his ear, whispering to him that  he is alright, and Harry on his screen, replying with soft and concerned words, he feels cared for. Like he has found his solace.

 

Minutes fly by, become hours, and soon Louis can’t stop his eyelids from drooping, his phone barely clutched in his tired hands.

 

**TBird Lou** : I think I’m fallin asleep on u

**TBird Lou** : Sorry

**Hazza ASMR** : That’s alright don’t worry

**Hazza ASMR** : I’m the one who kept you up so long 

**Hazza ASMR** : Sleep tight for me 

**Hazza ASMR** : And if you ever feel like talking to me or anything please do

**Hazza ASMR** : I really enjoyed tonight

**Hazza ASMR** : And I’d very much like to keep getting to know you

**Hazza ASMR** : A bit more

**TBird Lou:** Same here

**TBird Lou** : I’m pretty sure I’ll hold you up to that

**TBird Lou** : And again thank you 

**TBird Lou** : Really

**Hazza ASMR** : My pleasure

**Hazza ASMR** : Sweet dreams Louis

**TBird Lou** : Sweet dreams Harry :)

 

__________

  
  
  


Louis can’t breathe.

 

He managed to keep it at bay after the late meeting at work where his boss decided that none of the material Louis gave him was worth using. He managed to keep it at bay after his computer crashed right before he left work, making him stay for an hour and a half late. He managed to keep it at bay during his commute where the carriages were filled with loud Friday evening crowds, making his grip tighten on the bar he was holding on to.

  
But now Louis is in his flat, clutching the wall of the hallway to stay upright, and he can’t breathe.

It came with no warning like a tsunami, the uncontrollable anxiety making his limbs go weak and his chest cave in, freezing him on the spot. 

It’s been months since his last panic attack; he had forgotten the trembling fingers and the dizzy head and the pounding in his brain and how terrifying it all is, thinking “I might just die like this” but now it’s all rushing back in.

He can’t call Lottie, Fizzy or Liam because they don’t know what to do. The only one who did was his mum, and the thought makes him stumble on nothing and fall to his knees, a new wave of pressure stealing his breath.

With an unsteady hand, he reaches into his pocket for his phone and opens his Youtube chats, repeating aloud like a mantra “please be awake, please be awake”.

 

**TBird Lou** : u there ?

 

After a long minute trying to control his breathing, counting in cycles of four - inhale, hold, exhale - Louis’s phone pings.

 

**Hazza ASMR:** Hi Louis !

**Hazza ASMR** : Are you alright ?

**TBird Lou** : I dnot think so

**TBird Lou** : painc attack

**TBird Lou** : haevnt had one inos logn idk wat todo

 

Seconds after, Louis sees through blurry eyes a string of numbers appear on his screen.

 

**Hazza ASMR** : call me 

**Hazza ASMR** : please 

 

In a shaky exhale, Louis taps on the phone number, making the call.

It connects right away

 

“Louis ?” 

 

There it is. The warm fabric of Harry’s voice, picking him up and sheltering him from the crushing ocean. Louis blinks, tears welling in his eyes, finally taking a full breath in, lungs expanding a bit more.

 

“Harry” Louis croaks quietly, voice as wobbly as his limbs.

 

He can hear a small gasp on the other end, then more words. “Louis I’m gonna need you to sit down and open your eyes if they’re closed, alright darling ?”. They wash over him, and Louis hums his assent, moving slowly to slide down until he’s resting against the wall. “I’m gonna breathe very loudly for you, and you’re gonna do the same for me, alright Lou ?” Harry asks and Louis whispers his assent, listening to Harry’s strong exhales through the phone. He mimics it, thinking that it’s almost nice, almost like they’re here together, synching themselves to each other. 

After a few minutes, the voice comes alive again, still steady. “Okay now, can you tell me five things you see ?” Harry says and Louis slowly executes, his voice raspy, barely above a whisper. “You’re doing so good, now something you can touch and something you can smell” and Louis’s fingers bury in the plush of the carpet in answer, slowly feeling more grounded. “A cheap rug and I don’t know, old people ? I need to air this place out” he responds with a stronger tone, and he hears Harry chuckling softly, making him giggle in turn. 

“You do that later. Feeling any better ?” the voice inquires and with a smile Louis confirms, his breathing finally back under control. “Much better. Thank you, so much” he adds “I haven’t had one of these in so long I felt out of my depth. I mean, even more than I normally am”. Harry makes an understanding sort of sound on the other end of the call and breathes out “I’m really glad you called. I would have worried so much otherwise” and Louis feels his cheeks warming up at the earnest tone, a smile gliding on his lips. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it ?” Harry asks, and somehow it takes Louis aback. He expected Harry to just hang up now that the attack is no longer a threat, to want to go back to whatever he was doing before Louis interrupted. But he can hear the care in the depth of Harry’s voice, unhidden, and something blossoms in his stomach.

 

“I don’t want to bother you with any of this” he says, feeling a bit clumsy. 

“You really aren’t” Harry declares “I mean unless you don’t want to, in which case it’s perfectly fine and I don’t want to pry… but if you do, I’m more than willing to listen… to listen to you. If you wanna. I wasn’t lying the other day you know, I really like talking to you”.

Resting his forehead on his knees, Louis wonders how someone like Harry just stumbled in his life, unabashedly warm and caring for someone that was a stranger a few days ago. With a sob choking his throat, Louis answers.

 

“I really like it too.”

 

_ I really like you too. _

  
  


__________

  
  
  


After the phone call, it’s as if a dam has been broken. They start texting, constantly, and it becomes part of Louis’s life just like the videos before.

 

**Harry:**

Louis do you know how to make a soufflé rise again ?

**Louis:**

Pretty sure I don’t I’m sorry 

Why you asking ?

**Harry:**

I’m at work and I’m trying to make lemon and basil soufflés

But Louis they’re not puffed up anymore :(

I swear they were fine when I tried at home but the oven is not the same

It’s very confusing

And Niall is making fun of me 

  
**Louis:**

I mean I probably would too

At work ?

**Harry:**

Yes ?

I’m a baker

I didn’t tell you ?  
  


Louis’s mind drifts to a vision of pink lips coated in icing sugar, a tongue darting to lick at it.  
  


**Louis:**

No you haven’t ! It’s fucking neat !

I got myself a very strong sweet tooth to be honest so

My kind of people need your kind of people

**Harry:**

Is that so ??

What’s your favourite ?

**Louis:**

Red velvet all the way

But like proper ones

not the Tesco king though I guess it’s pretty decent for a supermarket cake

Lacks moisture and I need more icing than that they’re being weak-willed

**Harry:**

A solid choice I like it

**Louis:**

Well thank you Haz

Where is the bakery ?

**Harry:**

It’s a tiny shop at the corner of Beak St and Kingly St

**Louis:**

I think I’ve actually heard about it !

My sis Lottie wanted to drag me there but I had too much work that day 

Now I’m sad I didn’t

**Harry:**

Really ? 

Aw we could have seen each other :(

**Louis:**

Wouldn’t have known me back then anyway

Also you don’t even know what I look like 

Not very helpful

**Harry:**

True

But I’m sure I’d recognize you you know

And now I know your voice, that helps !

What is it you’re doing that keeps you away from the best cupcakes in London ?

**Louis:**

Humble I see

**Harry:**

I’ll let you know it’s not bragging when it’s the truth Louis

**Louis:**

Of course 

I’m a video game artist 

Like all that’s character or background designs and all

**Harry:**

That’s so freaking cool !!!!

 

Louis laughs at the display of enthusiasm, feeling warm.

 

**Louis:**

It really is

I mean you when I talk to you about work it’s often the bad parts

But I really love what I do it’s what I always wanted

Always liked drawing and creating characters, building worlds and landscape and all that

It was hard to actually find a job but now that I’m here I wouldn’t change it

**Harry:**

You basically decide how an entire game looks

It’s bloody amazing

**Louis:**

I mean the designers have the final say but it’s true

Like I told you a bit last time it was very demanding at first being a new guy that had to prove he was good enough to be there

But I’m happy now

Except when my boss decides everything has to be redone last minute

**Harry:**

I’m glad

I’m sure you’re brilliant

And your art mind blowing

I mean there are thousands and thousands of people admiring what you’ve created for them in the world and they don’t even know it’s you who’s done it 

It’s entirely part of their experience of it and for some it’s their favourite things and you’re the one who made it come to life

I think it’s incredible

**Louis:**

I’ve never thought about it like that

I like it a lot

Thank you Harry

**Harry:**

You’re more than welcome

  
  


The following afternoon, when Louis receives the picture of a gorgeous red velvet cake topped with an inordinate amount of icing swirls and dainty flowers, captioned “was thinking of you”, his tummy becomes alive with butterflies.

And if Louis shares knock knock jokes overheard in the elevator that he knows will have Harry dissolving in giggles, it’s just a mere coincidence. It has nothing to do with trying to make Harry as full with happiness as Louis himself feels.

It just seems like the most natural development the universe could have come up with, and it is.

 

__________

  
  


**Louis:**

I should start calling you Mr Sandman

**Harry:**

Give me a dream ?

Dun dun dun dun

**Louis:**

You’re terrible

**Harry:**

Lies and slander

Why Mr Sandman ?

**Louis:**

You’re officially the only one who can put me to sleep

I’ve tried other videos and they just don’t do the trick ? it’s weird

Some of them are alright but they’re still not it

I don’t know

And I definitely can’t on my own

**Harry:**

Well I’m glad I’m helping

And that the others can’t

**Louis:**

You’re glad I don’t watch other people ?

Because I’m telling you that narrows down the number of videos I can watch drastically

**Harry:**

Yes

I don’t like to share

 

Louis just stares at his phone screen, eyes wide and teeth biting at his lips, wondering if he’s not just dreaming awake because Harry feeling this way is just not in the realm of possibility.  
  


**Harry:**

Also I’m pretty sure I’d do an even better job in real life

 

With shaky fingers, Louis tries to recover.

 

**Louis:**

And how would you do that then ?

**Harry:**

First I’d draw you a bath

Lavender salts and bubbles with some nice music or sounds like ocean waves

I bet you like ocean waves

Then I’d make you a cuppa because it’s been freezing this week and I’m sure you get cold easily

 

Louis looks down at his hands, swallowed whole by the too big cashmere jumper he has on, and feels a flush blooming on his cheeks.

 

**Louis:**

I do not

**Harry:**

Thanks for the confirmation

Anyway so a good cuppa

Something dark and sweet with a bit of spice

I’ve got a really good tea like that at mine

I’d tuck you in bed 

And maybe if you’ve been good, a lullaby or playing with your hair

I’d really like to play with your hair

 

Louis’s face is too warm, and he is getting more than a little bit parched, the image Harry is conjuring floating in front of his eyes, close to perfection.  
  


**Louis:**

Well Haz 

Looks like you’ve been doing some planning

**Harry:**

I have 

Lou

  
  


When Harry’s next video comes around, Louis thinks he really should have seen it coming since the boy likes to fluster him way too much for his own taste. And yet he didn’t, which is exactly why he is currently watching with wide eyes Harry’s hands play with actual sand, feeling his sanity slipping away between Harry’s fingers in time with the small grains. 

 

Louis is pretty sure it’s the first time Harry shows his hands on camera, since he never saw even one nail in spite of going through the entire array of videos on Hazza’s channel.

And also because he would have remembered them. Fingers burying themselves in the sand to come back up again, small mounds nested in the wide palms that curve around to hold everything in. They’re big, definitely bigger than Louis’s, and the long bones he sees rolling under the surface of Harry’s skin seem to provoke him.

Harry has tattoos. That’s a real thing. A small cross on the inner edge of his left hand, between in forefinger and thumb, somewhere Louis wouldn’t mind biting, and something else resting on his wrist, half-hidden until Harry reaches across the frame and reveals an anchor.

 

Eyes darting to his right arm where a rope adorns the same spot, Louis has a fleeting but persistent thought.

 

_ Maybe, just maybe, you were made for me. _

 

**Louis:**

I know what you did there

You think you’re so funny

**Harry:**

Come on, I’m pretty funny

Also I have a complaint

**Louis:**

I definitely should be the one complaining here

**Harry:**

You already do darling

So in the song Mr Sandman is just like a mean for an end

Seems unfair to me

**Louis:**

Unfair ?

**Harry:**

I mean, I do have wavy hair like Liberace

I’d say, even wavier

So I offer myself to be held

**Louis:**

Oh my god

You need to stop yourself Haz

  
  


Louis’s fleeting thought comes back to him when, a few days later, he’s watching with bewildered eyes Harry’s lips moving on the screen, this time not to talk but to sing.

 

“There is a little bird that has some trouble sleeping” he first introduced “and I’d like to help him a bit more than I feel I do … This is no lavender bubble bath, but it’ll do for now”

 

And now, with Harry’s voice singing just for him like a chasm of velour in his ears, Louis is craving him. Not because he hits the notes perfectly, or that the depth of his voice almost vibrates in the air, but because of the words that pour out of his lips, pinker than ever.

 

“Stars shining bright above you…  Night breezes seem to whisper… ” and instead of the expected three words, Harry lets out a breath of air with a shy smile.

 

“Birds singing in the sycamore trees… Dream a little dream of me”

 

Louis shivers. He is transfixed, eyes roaming over the computer screen, trying to find an answer to why his heart is beating so fast right until it stops completely.

 

“I'm longing to linger till dawn dear”

 

He lets out a low whine, something that sounds wounded and maybe he really is, because he feels like his heart is bleeding out for the creature that pleads him on the screen.

 

“You gotta make me a promise, promise to me… You'll dream, dream a little of me”

 

Everything is very much unfair.

 

**Louis:**

Now you’re just being rude

**Haz <3:**

Dunno what you mean :)

  
  


__________

  
  


It all comes to a head with a simple question, something innocuous and simple.

 

**Louis:**

Haz 

**Haz <3:**

Yes love ?

**Louis:**

Why did you reply to me 

**Haz <3:**

What do you mean ?

**Louis:**

That first comment I left 

Remember ?

**Haz <3:**

Of course I do

Well I can’t resist a Grease reference

 

Louis lets out an amused puff of air and then stops breathing altogether.  
  


**Haz <3:**

And somehow it just felt like the most important thing in the world at that moment you know

Answering you

It always does  
  


His hands are trembling softly, his breathing shaky at best. There is something growing inside his chest, inflating like a balloon, and it’s glowing. A universe expanding.

  
**Haz <3:**

Lou

I’d really, really like us to meet

I have wanted to for a while now  
  


Burning. His chest is burning.  
  


**Haz <3:**

Are you there ?

 

_ I love you _

 

**Louis:**

I’d love to

**Haz <3:**

Really ??

You would ?

**Louis:**

Yes Haz

Of course I would

I’ve wanted to for a while too you know

You’re not alone in this

At all

**Haz <3:**

You shouldn’t say that

You don’t know what you’re signing up for right now

I mean I’m pretty gone for you if you hadn’t noticed

 

There are tears falling on his cheeks, falling on his smile, and Louis feels bigger than the sun itself, like he could grasp the world in the palm of his hand. Or maybe he just has.

 

**Louis:**

I assure you

The feeling’s quite mutual

What did you have in mind ?

**Haz <3:**

I thought maybe you could come to the bakery ? 

Or we could dine at mine ?

Or if you prefer we could meet up outside ?

I don’t know just

Whatever you want

**Louis:**

Harry are you nervous ? 

**Haz <3:**

Maybe

Definitely

It’s just I’ve wanted to see you for a very long time

Wanted you

**Louis:**

I want too

Finally seeing the bakery in real life sounds lovely darling

Seeing you sounds even better

**Haz <3:**

Jesus

Ok

I finish at 5:30 pm Wednesday ?

**Louis:**

I’ll be there

**Haz <3:**

I’ll be waiting

  
  


__________

  
  


There is something frightening in finally getting what you’ve yearned for. That’s why Louis has been standing right next to the window of the bakery, keeping very still, as if Harry will immediately know and see him if he moves a muscle. His nerves have been eating at him on the way there, and even walking under the light drizzle hasn’t settled them.

He feels the knot in his stomach tighten with every person that passes him on the pavement and every tick of his watch that he is now strangely overly aware of. At twenty-four past five, when the tension clawing at his throat feels too much, he chances a glance at the bakery window.

 

Harry is there, radiant. He stands behind the counter, smiling, dimples barely discernible from this distance but definitely there. Louis recognizes his curls, half-heartedly spilling from a bun perched on the back of his head, their colour mirroring the chocolate pastries on display behind the glass counter. He is tall, sinuous, like a plant that lets nothing of its true nature shine except for the green of his eyes and his petal-like lips. But what makes Louis’s stomach churns are the small details of him: the clumsy knot of his apron resting on the small of his back, or the round metal-framed glasses he wears, which Louis has never been informed of. Harry is overwhelming, and Louis has never felt so sure about something in his entire life.

 

Relaxing his shoulders, he pushes the glass door open, the smell of warm sugar and freshly baked bread welcoming him in. He closes his eyelids for a brief second, trying to take everything in, to commit it to memory because he just knows that right here is one of the most important moments of his life. 

At the sound of the chime, Harry’s green, green eyes set on him and widen almost comically. In months of back and forth, he has never seen Louis’s face once, and yet his gaze is knowing, hopeful. Slowly filling with unshed tears. His eyes roam on Louis’s figure, on his features, and Louis knows that he’s doing the same thing as him: cataloguing, learning avidly and fixing in his heart the picture they make, both standing there, in the presence of each other for the first time.

 

“Lou ?”

 

This voice. This voice is his. It is safe, it is home.

 

“Hello, baby”

 

And when Harry steps from behind the counter to crash into Louis’s arms, he cannot help but smile, the tingles running down his fingers clutching Harry’s back heading straight for his very core. Parting for a moment, Louis’s hands come up to gently cup Harry’s face, bringing their foreheads together with an overwhelmed sigh. As he feels wetness on his fingertips, Louis’s lips part.

 

“Oh darling, how I’ve longed for you”

 

And finally they collide, mouths meeting in a reverent kiss, two lost stars finally found.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! If you liked it consider reblogging the [tumblr post](http://cupcakentea.tumblr.com/post/165378575270/but-theres-one-i-always-miss-7273-words-by) or [saying hi](http://cupcakentea.tumblr.com/)?
> 
> Title from Eels - I Need Some Sleep


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